The Debt Collector
by johmichaels
Summary: Paulie is wanting another night on the hunt, another night to make the streets self and exclusive to his people, the right people. But a crime from the past is about to catch up to him.


The Debt Collector

Paulie slammed the glass down on the table and let out a loud sigh. He looked around at his mates around the table with them, their bored looks striking an odd juxtaposition to his own excited stare.

"All right boys? We up for a bit of a hunt tonight?" he said. "Pub will be closing soon, perfect time to hunt."

The rest of the table tried to avoid his glance. Paulie didn't care. He knew these guys, and had known them for years. They might pretend things had changed, but they really hadn't. Paulie knew they would try to find an excuse but eventually Paulie could always work down their barriers.

"Yeah, 'bout that, Paulie," Steve finally spoke up, "Sharon was wanting me home early tonight. Got work in the morning."

"Work? Fuck work Steve! We've got to defend the streets, you know that. It's our duty. If we don't send a message, they'll take over. The street will get weak without us defending it!" Paulie shouted, a little bit too loudly.

"Yeah, but Sharon-"

"If a bitch holds you back, she's not doing what she's meant to do!" Paulie interrupted Steve, laughing at him. He turned to the others, "Do you hear Steve? He's completely whipped since she got him to move in. Like I always say, if the mouth is open, that's your first mistake!"

Paulie laughed again at his own joke. A few others muttered to themselves, but none laughed as loudly as Paulie. Steve just looked at his knees, hoping to be able to leave soon. Paulie still knew he could convince Steve otherwise. Just once he is was in it again, Paulie remembered the gleam on his face. They were Kings when they were out there. All Paulie needed to do is convince some of the others, then Steve would join in.

"What about you, Rob?" Paulie asked, turning to face the younger member of the group. Rob was still the baby despite being in his mid twenties, because when he'd first joined in he was a teen to the rest of the gang's adulthood. Paulie remembered how excited he had been to be part of the men for once, and how the school, even the teachers, were intimidated by him walking in their colours.

"Paulie, it's not that I don't want to-" Rob started, for Paulie to interrupt him again.

"But what? You love it more than anyone! We could get out the old baseball bat, remember that?"

"Paulie, I've been having the nightmares again. And they get worse when we go out together," Rob interjected.

"Forget about it, it was one day, long ago-"

"I just see the screaming. And then I see her, just laying there," Rob started to look away, his eyes unfocusing as the memories came back.

"We did what we had to do! She was a leftie, tree hugging dyke. She was going to take it all away from us," Paulie hissed, not wanting too much attention on this topic.

"I just realized, she's was the same age I am now. And, she was important, even then."

Paulie slammed his fists on the table. "Damn you all, we are important! We're the protectors of our culture, our race, and now look at us! No wonder they others think they can replace us if one of you is whipped, another wets his bed, and the rest are too dumb to know what's right. Do you want to defend the British or don't you?"

The others muttered a soft yes.

"Then let's do it! I get it, the hunts are getting boring. We need to do something bigger again, something that will really send a message. We need to-"

Paulie stopped as he noticed the others weren't looking at him, but what was behind him. Paulie quickly turned around to see a uniformed policeman whom he recognized well.

"Sergeant Carter. What's you doing out here for?" Paulie asked.

"Just doing the round, Paul," Carter answered. "Some of the publicans like us to come around close to closing, just in case any of the regulars decide to get a bit rowdy. That wouldn't be your intention, would it, Paul?"

"No Sergeant Carter," Paulie answered succinctly.

"Good. Glad to hear it. Now what was that I heard about sending a message?"

Carter looked at the gang, who all tried to avoid eye contact. Pauline didn't mind, as this gave him enough time to come up with a suitable answer.

"Gonna start a letter writing campaign. Got a few opinions I think people should know about," Pauline suggested.

"About immigration?" Carter asked.

"Not just about that. I got other interests too, Carter."

"I'm sure you do," Carter answered, starting to move away. "Just to be clear though, my colleague and I are on the beat tonight, so if you get lost and confused on the way home, we'll be nearby to help."

Paulie understood the veiled threat, so watched as the Sergeant walked off to join a colleague at the other end of the pub. Paulie knew he should stay quiet, but the temptation grew too strong to mess with the policeman.

"Hey Sergeant!" Paulie called out. "Any luck finding the gun that killed that girl?"

Carter turned back to stare daggers at Paulie, his face furious. Paulie smiled as he could see Carter begin to boil, waiting for Carter to take the first shot to justify all the things Paulie wanted to do to Carter in return. Instead Carter's colleague grabbed Carter by the shoulder, and guided him away from Paulie.

Paulie continued to watch as Carter left his eye sight before turning back to the old gang. Their faces were even more dropped than before, and none of them tried to make eye contact. Rob was pale and shaking.

"Did you have to do that?" Steve asked.

"Come on," Paulie whispered. "Let's head out now the old copper has gone. Night is young boys."

The others looked down into their beers.

"It's not fun anymore, Paulie," Steve muttered.

Angered, Paulie threw his drink at Steve. "Fuck the lot of you then. We built this country, and you are too weak to defend it," he answered and stormed out of the pub, not pausing to look back at his friends.

Paulie was angry, but not stupid. He didn't start his hunt straight away, he looked both ways to make sure the cops had left soon enough. It was when he was sure no eyes of the blue would be on him that he chose his target. And it didn't take long to be sure.

She was walking slowly home. Dark skinned, African decent maybe, which made her enough of a target, but what sunk the deal was the outfit. Covered up, almost entirely, wearing a headscarf. Not just an invader, though Paulie, but an enemy invader. Maybe she was going home from prayers. Maybe she had a job she had finished up. Paulie didn't care. He wouldn't take long enough to still be around for any of those people from prayers or her job to notice she was gone.

He started to follow her, moving fast enough to keep pace, but not so fast she might feel alarmed. It was a knack he was used to, syncing his speed to a stranger's, and then slowly increasing speed so that gradually they got in arm's reach. It meant she wouldn't know he was following until he had her. And right now he was enjoying looking at her. He thought to himself how she should be grateful for what he would do to her, that while he may sully his own blood he would be improving hers. He fantasized about the idea of forcing her to carry a child of his, then realized he would have to kill her to protect himself. He joked to himself that maybe her family would do the job for him for bringing shame to the family. He reasoned that it was only justice for what her lot had done to decent pure white women.

He thought so much about what he would do to this woman that he didn't notice who was coming at him from a side alley. Paulie didn't notice anything apart from the woman until he had passed the alley, and felt a intense pain in the back of his neck. And then, as everything went black, Paulie didn't notice anything at all.

When Paulie awoke he felt he was somewhere different. He couldn't see anything still, there was a sack or a bag on his head preventing this. But he felt the air was different, more sterile. There was a hum all around him. In one corner he heard footsteps.

"Who's there? Let me go!" Paulie shouted out. He tried to move his hands to get his face free, but found that his hands were restrained behind his back. The other occupant, whomever it was, remained silent and the only noise Paulie received in response was the flipping of switches.

"Steve? Rob?" Paulie asked, listening for any signs of recognition. "Look boys, I know I was a bit rough on you earlier, but a joke's a-"

"I'm not any of your friends," the other occupant responded. It was a male voice, sounding educated thoug tired. There was a slight rasp in the voice, coming not from age but from strain of yelling.

"Well, my mates knew where I was going so you better-"

"Your friends don't notice that you go. When they do notice they don't care and are largely grateful," the other man answered. "Steve becomes a father to two, and focuses entirely on raising them, never wanting to have you in their life again. Rob eventually gives himself in, and becomes a de-radicalisation worker. That's what made it so easy."

"Easy? So easy to do what?"

"To take you. Time, even in this dangerous time, does not take kindly to taking people out of their temporal context, but once I looked into you, I found your story ends today with or without interference from me," the other man explained. "I was lucky in that regard."

Paulie had no idea what this man was talking about. He sounded crazy, which unnerved Paulie even more. He got up on his knees and started to shuffle backwards, hoping to find a door or something sharp to cut his restraints with. But, he realized, this nutcase may have already prepared for this. He needed to send the other man a message.

"If you're going to kill me, gotta warn you mate, I'm not going to make it easier for you. Best you dump me now before I get to see your face and recognize it."

The man gave a tired and long sigh. "I'm not going to kill you. I may no longer be a doctor but I am not that man yet. In fact you could even say I am going to give you an opportunity."

There was a sudden thud sound all around Paulie, and the humming stopped. Paulie heard a switch being pulled, and something activating behind him. As he tried to turn around a strong hand gripped him by the back of the neck and started to pull him away. Paulie started to run, while still restrained at his wrists, to keep up with the hand which held him.

Suddenly he felt warm air all around him, and his feet beginning to sink as he walked. Then the hand at the back of his neck released, and the bag from removed from Paulie's head. Paulie stumbled around as he looked at where he was, a far different location than the streets of his hometown. It was mostly sand, as far as he could see, under a bright sun. Hadn't it been evening when he left? Was he unconscious that long?

In front of Paulie there was a small pool of water, surrounded by plants and flowers. Looking into it, Paulie first saw the face of his captor. He had dark brown, slightly curled hair. His face looked young, but his eyes looked so tired and old, like they had seen far more than the rest of the face experienced. And Paulie had no idea who this person was.

"Who the hell are you?" Paulie asked, turning to face the other man. Now having a clearer view, he could see the man stood in front of a blue box, with a knife in one hand.

"Who I am is not important," the man answered, "At least, not as important as who you are and who I was."

Paulie was tired of riddles, "Just tell me the fucking point of all of this before I smash you!"

The man sighed and walked over towards Paulie, knife outstretched. Paulie started to slowly stumble backwards, but the man was faster, speeding up and used one arm to hold Paulie from behind. With a flick of his knife, Paulie's restraints were gone. The man released him, and Paulie fell back to the ground in surprise. The man threw the knife next to him.

"I used to be a man who was forgiving, peaceful-"

"Weak!" Paulie yelled at him, rubbing his wrists.

"Maybe," the man answered, only vaguely registering Paulie now. "I always wanted to protect my friends. But I never did. All got hurt, and some died despite my protection. I was the sort of men who could accept that. I'm not that man anymore."

"And what the hell does that have to do with me being here?"

"You killed my friend Paulie," the man explained. He didn't say it was a trace of anger, or stress, but as casually as one might describe the weather. "Her name was Sam, she was a political campaigner and you shot and killed her."

"You can't prove that! I have-" Paulie yelled, to be interrupted by the other man.

"I have no interest in proving anything. I know you did, and you know you did. That's enough, we don't need to get the courts involved," the man answered. "You are Paul Watson, proponent of racial superiority. You opposed her because you felt her talk on racism and migration was going to lead to you using your place in society, you thought, so you killed her to silence her. I know you did."

Paulie leapt down to grab the knife and point it at the man. A part of him thought the man had dropped the knife for a reason but he didn't care. The stronger thought is a friend of his victim had abducted him.

"You might as well put that down, Paul," the man answered. "I gave it to you as a tool, not a weapon."

"I'm keeping it in case you try to have a strike at me!" Paulie yelled.

"And if I had wanted to do that, wouldn't I have done it already when you were restrained? No Paulie, like I told you, I brought you here to give you an opportunity."

"What opportunity?"

The man looked slightly upwards, a mixture of disinterest and trying to recall something.

"Your name is Paul Watson, Paulie to your friends. Often making talks about the natural superiority of the white race, and how it was your race which built society, and all other races which seek to destroy it," the man explained as he walked around Paulie to approach the pool of water. "Here is a water source, nearby is food, and I have given you a tool. This is more than many had to create a society. This is your chance to prove how superior you are you all others by making a new society right here."

Paulie was bemused, "What are you talking about?"

"My friend Sam would often campaign about how we are better united. You believe you are better when the strong eliminates the weak. There is no one around here apart from you, Paul. Now is your chance to prove Sam wrong, and show your theory of life is correct. Be the strong man, who can build civilization with no one around to drag you down," the man explained again.

Paulie found his heart was beginning to race, as her felt his breath quicken. "But I don't know where I am!"

"You never mentioned needing to know where you are to develop civilization. Your culture and heritage you have said would be sufficient," the man explained, walking away from Paulie, back towards the blue box.

"Stop!" Paulie said, pointing the knife towards the man again. "Take me back or I'll stab you."

The man didn't even turn back as he continued to walk towards the blue box.

"If you kill me, you will still not know where you are or how to head back. You'd be exactly where you are now, except with an unhygienic knife and a unhygienic corpse to make your survival just a little bit harder," the man explained, opening the door to the blue box. He turned around as he entered to tell Paulie, "I'll be back in twenty years. Maybe you will have proven me, Sam, proven everyone wrong. But I think it will be just as likely I'll find you with a stomach full of sand."

And then, without any further pause, the man shut the door of the blue box, cutting himself off from Paulie. Paulie dropped to his knees in shock as the blue box emitted a wheezing, groaning noise and faded from existence. Where the box was previously, now there was nothing but a sand dune. Paulie looked around, and saw in all directions, the distance was only showing more sand. Not even animal noises came from any direction.

Paulie, next to a small pond, on a strange planet far from home, was truly alone. The hunt had finally concluded.


End file.
